


don't pray for us

by tothemoonandbackmydear



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: But Not For Awhile, Cuddling, Eventual Smut, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Jean Deserves To Be Happy, Jean Is A Little Shit, Jeremy Has A Gift, Like Alot Of Cuddling, M/M, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Touch-Starved, dream walking, fight me, it's cool, seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:09:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8272250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothemoonandbackmydear/pseuds/tothemoonandbackmydear
Summary: Jeremy knew he was “special” from a very young age. His mom said it ran in the family, this “power of touch” he had. His grandpa had it and his older cousin, Marina did too. It only made him feel a little better, but not by much. His mom had tried to explain it to him as she tugged tight, skin colored gloves over him hands for next twelve years, but he doesn’t think he will ever truly understand.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey. hi. hello.
> 
> listen, i know i have ten thousand stories in the works, but i'm currently struggling with writers block and i'm trying to get over it, but this is something that came to me and i honestly had to write it. i will be complelting ALL of my stories and i'm sorry if the updates are sketchy but that's me and i'm sorry.
> 
> anyways, here is some jean and jeremy because they deserve everything and i love them more than myself. 
> 
> title is from modern jesus by portrugal. the man. (seriously listen to it. it is jean's song.)
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated and i love you guys.

Jeremy knew he was “special” from a very young age. His mom said it ran in the family, this “power of touch” he had. His grandpa had it and his older cousin, Marina did too. It only made him feel a little better, but not by much. His mom had tried to explain it to him as she tugged tight, skin colored gloves over him hands for next twelve years, but he doesn’t think he will ever truly understand. 

The first time it happened, he had been nearly inconsolable. 

He was on the playground, kindergarten had been more fun than he had thought it would be and he was having a blast running from playset to playset with a group of boys playing freely and loudly. He was hanging from the monkey bars, tiny fingers and palms burning as he struggled to make it across them. His friends cheered him on from below, kicking up mulch and dirt as they zig zagged away. He was halfway across when he lost his grip, sweat making the metal slip easily away and he squealed in equal parts fear and excitement as he dropped the startling height to the ground. What he hadn’t expected, was a boy to dart under the bars just as Jeremy started to fall. Jeremy flailed, but he still ended up landing on the boy, both ending up a groaning pile of stubby limbs and bruised knees. 

Jeremy rolled off and away from the other boy, standing up and brushing off his shirt and shorts. 

“I’m sorry.” He said to the boy, who was still laying on the ground, flat on his back, face twisted in pain as he wrapped an arm around his stomach. Jeremy moved to stand over him when the other boy didn’t respond and stuck his hand down to him. 

“Sorry I fell on you, I didn’t mean to. Need a hand?” He asked, giving his best smile. The boy blinked up at him and Jeremy could vaguely recognize him from one of the other kindergarten classes, before the kid gave a tentative smile and took Jeremy’s offered hand. 

The moment their hands touched, it was like someone had yanked him off his feet and the world blinked away around him. Jeremy felt like he couldn’t breath, chest heavy and tight in the all encompassing blackness around him before it started to fade, but he wasn’t on the playground anymore. He was in an unfamiliar room, body frozen and breath stuttering as he blinked away the dizziness. He glanced around, taking in the large desk in the middle of the room, the tall shelves filled with books and other knick knacks. It was painted a warm red and the hardwood floor was mostly obscured by a oriental rug. Jeremy tried to move, but no matter how hard the most he could do was twitch his pinkie toe. Terror was making him shake and tears flooded his eyes. Where was he? He wanted his mom, he wants his daddy, he-

His thoughts were interrupted as the door to the room was thrown open and surprisingly, the boy he had landed on from the playground stumbled inside, closing the door behind him and sprinted over to the desk. Jeremy opened his mouth to ask what was happening, how they got here, but nothing came out and the boy didn’t even acknowledge him, running right by him as he slid to hide under the desk. He was panting, tears and snot all over his face and Jeremy wanted to hug him because he always liked to be hugged when he cried, but he still couldn’t move. 

“Joseph! Get your ass out here, boy, I swear to God!” A voice screamed suddenly from somewhere behind the door and the boy under the desk, Joseph he guessed, whimpered, curling further into himself in the tiny space. He began to rock as the sound of heavy footsteps came closer to the door. Jeremy was terrified, he wanted to hide too from the loud voice and bad words. He willed himself to move, but it was like he was made from cement. 

The door slammed open, hitting the wall and making a snowglobe fall from one of the shelves. It shattered, glass and water going everywhere as a tall man stalked into the room. His face was red, mouth hidden under a clean shaven beard. His dress shirt was neatly tucked into his dress pants and his tie hung limply from around his neck. He looked almost like Jeremy’s daddy, but his daddy never yelled or cursed. Jeremy wished his daddy was here. 

“Joseph. Get out here, right now.” He growled and the boy under the desk shifted, making the wood floor creak and groan, but made no other move to reveal himself. The man’s bright, angry eyes darted immediately to the desk and a cruel smile twisted his mouth as he made his way over to it. He walked slowly, eyes passing right over where Jeremy was cowering and crouched to peer under the desk. 

“D-Dad, p-please-” Joseph cried as the man grabbed a fist full of his hair and dragged him out from under the table. He kicked and screamed, tears falling steadily and Jeremy could feel himself crying as well as he watched helplessly as the man punched Joseph in the stomach twice before pulling him from the room and slamming the door. Jeremy sobbed as he listened to the sound of Joseph scream and his dad yell and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. 

He barely noticed in his hysterics as the room blinked away and he fell to his knees in the mulch of the playground. Joseph was kneeling in front of him, voice frantic as he asked Jeremy what was wrong, what had happened as teachers rushed over to them. Jeremy ignored them as he reached forward and pulled Joseph into a crushing hug, arms wrapped around his neck and refused to let go. 

That’s how his mom found them, having received a panicked call from the school, her son holding onto another boy as he cried and cried, babbling apologies about “not helping, I’m sorry, I tried to move, I’m sorry.” 

His mom had explained it to him that night, Jeremy curled up in her lap, hands covered in gloves. It was a special gift, to be able to see a person’s memories, both bad and good. He could help people, save them, like Joseph, who was taken from his home the very next day after an anonymous tip to social services. It was a good thing. Picturing Joseph’s father's twisted smile that never left his face even as his son begged him to stop, Jeremy couldn’t say he agreed.


End file.
